


Baby, Baby

by biblionerd07



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Typical Violence, Coda, It doesn't really change anything in canon, Kid Fic, M/M, Season/Series 09, i guess?, more like a missing scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-20
Updated: 2014-06-20
Packaged: 2018-02-05 12:08:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1817941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/biblionerd07/pseuds/biblionerd07
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nora goes missing, leaving Dean, Cas, and Sam with baby Tonya while they try to find her.  Takes place between "Road Trip" and "First Born", pre-Mark of Cain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby, Baby

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't really know how to tag this, because it's technically canon divergent, but it's not really changing anything in canon, so...somewhere between a canon divergence and a missing scene, I guess. It does bring Dean back to the Bunker before he takes the Mark of Cain, so there's that little difference.

“Where are you?” Dean asks without preamble the second Castiel picks up the phone. Cas frowns slightly. Dean’s voice is tight, worried. It’s not that Cas isn’t used to the sound—he’s probably heard Dean’s anxious voice more than his relaxed voice—but he doesn’t have to like the tension in Dean’s voice.

“Nebraska. On my way…” He pauses slightly before forcing himself to say what he wants to, forcing courage into his voice. “Home.” _Home to you_.

“Cas.” A rush of breath in his ear makes Castiel wish he could fly, not for the first time. He has grace but can’t fly, and it frustrates him to no end that he has to _drive_ to get where he wants to go, rather than mostly-instantaneous flight. “Oh, um, I mean.” Dean clears his throat, gathering his thoughts from where Cas spent them spinning by using the word _home_. “I don’t know if you should come here and we’ll leave together or if we should just meet there.”

“Meet where?” Cas is annoyed now. Dean’s habit of starting conversations halfway in never fails to get a rise out of him.

“Idaho.” Dean is hesitant now, worried about telling him, and if Cas were still human his mouth would go dry.

“Idaho?”

“Um, your friend Nora…she was on the news tonight. Well, she wasn’t; that’s the problem, I guess. She’s missing, Cas.”

Cas is quiet for a minute. “What about Tonya?” He asks, and his voice is trembling a little in a way that makes Dean clench his empty hand.

“Missing, too.”

“Is it…what—?”

“We’re not sure. But it sounds like our kind of thing.” _Our kind of thing_. Demons. Angels. Monsters. Cas sighs.

“I’ll come home first.” He calls it home almost unconsciously this time. “And then we can figure out what to do.”

 

They drive to Idaho, without Sam because he’d felt Cas’s heaviness and had turned it over to Dean. Dean tries not to think it’s because Sam doesn’t want to be stuck in the car with him for that long. Cas says it’s probably angels, and the bitterness in his voice is almost unbearable to Dean. Dean doesn’t bother telling Cas it isn’t his fault, because Cas won’t accept it and Dean knows it. Instead they drive, largely in silence. They get there quickly, since Cas can drive all night while Dean sleeps, and search for clues in Nora’s quiet little house.

“Looks like she tried to fight back,” Dean says admiringly. Things are knocked over, messy, in a way it wasn’t when he was here before.

“Protecting Tonya,” Cas answers quietly, somberly, and Dean doesn’t let himself second-guess the impulse to wrap his arms around Cas’s shoulders. Cas rests his forehead on Dean’s shoulder and breathes. They’re so hesitant with one another these days—always dancing around what they want, always gingerly approaching and not-quite getting there, both knowing what makes the air between them heavy but neither quite ready to put it into words or go further than a few comforting touches now and then.

“They’re probably dead,” Cas murmurs against Dean’s shirt.

“We’ll find out,” Dean says. He doesn’t say _we’ll find them_ because he’s decided to stop making promises he can’t keep. The house doesn’t offer much by way of information; besides the signs of a struggle, there’s not much to off. No flashing neon lights to tell them where to look. No sulfur.

“I should have warded the house,” Cas thinks out loud. “But I came back, sometimes.”

Dean pushes Cas out to arm’s length to look at his face. “You did?”

“I kept myself hidden. I just wanted to check on them sometimes.” He doesn’t quite meet Dean’s eyes and Dean’s throat feels tight.

“Were you in love with Nora?” He asks quietly. Cas looks up quickly, surprised, and shakes his head.

“I…cared more for Tonya,” he says honestly, and Dean wants to laugh, almost, in relief, but then is burdened down by the sudden image of Cas with his face pressed to the window like a forlorn Peter Pan, the memory of Cas’s strong arms holding the little baby and his husky voice singing to her sharp in Dean’s mind because he’s relived it so many times in his dreams.

Dean runs a thumb along the underside of Cas’s jaw, just once, and then releases him. “The angels have some kind of headquarters, right?” He asks, voice a little rough from the sudden ache he’s feeling.

“They could be using Buddy Boyle’s company,” Cas muses.

“Well, let’s get going,” Dean says, rubbing a hand over his face. Cas watches him closely for a minute before shaking his head.

“You need to sleep,” He says quietly. Dean shrugs.

“I can sleep in the car, like I have been.” He doesn’t tell Cas that he has a crick in his neck and his back is aching, but Cas knows, anyway, because Cas always does. He’s shaking his head before Dean’s finished the sentence.

“You should sleep in a bed.” His words sound like a suggestion but his voice is a command and Dean can’t pretend he doesn’t _want_ a bed.

“Okay.” Dean holds up his hands in surrender. “We can go back to that motel we stayed in when I…”

Silence hangs between them. It hadn’t exactly been a happy visit. They’d curled together in the bed and slept that way and later, after he’d gone back to the bunker, Dean hadn’t been able to sleep because he was alone and the bed was too big by himself.

Cas doesn’t object, though, so they go and Dean does the ritual of checking in that is so familiar to him he could do it in his sleep—probably has, a few times, when he’s been so tired he couldn’t stand completely upright. He takes a long, hot shower and when he comes out Cas is lying on his side under the blankets of one of the beds and Dean stares, contemplating his next move. He’d gotten a room with two beds partially out of habit and partially out of respect. The last time he’d been here with Cas had been painful for them both, but particularly Cas—Dean hadn’t wanted to presume anything. But now he’s faced with Cas in a bed and a decision to make and he’s not sure what to do.

Dean ignores the voice in his head that tells him it’s a bad idea and slides in behind Cas hesitantly, almost apologetically. He only dares this in motel rooms on the road, or when they were traveling through Purgatory and he was worried Cas would disappear again, never when Cas stays in the bunker. Cas immediately twines an ankle between Dean’s feet and presents his shoulder blades for Dean to rest his forehead against, like it hasn’t been months since Dean’s crawled in beside him, like there’s no awkwardness or hard feelings between them. Dean releases his breath in a rush of heat against Cas’s shoulder and nestles in, throwing his arm around Cas’s waist. Cas makes a little humming sound and burrows closer to Dean, pushing the back of his shoulder against Dean’s chest, but they don’t speak. Cas almost always lets Dean set the pace and Dean can never decide if he’s grateful or frustrated for that.

He stifles his thoughts and lets Cas’s breathing lull him to sleep, enjoying the bed and the blankets and the body in front of him.

 

It’s about thirty miles from Buddy Boyle’s headquarters when Cas sits up quickly, body suddenly straight and thrumming with tension, and barks out, “Stop.”

Dean pulls off as quickly as he can, and Cas jumps out before they’re even at a full stop, tearing off into the woods. Dean makes a frustrated noise—he’d really rather not leave his car on the shoulder of the highway, thanks—and rolls his eyes heavenward before chasing after Cas.

Dean finds him a short ways into the trees, head down and shoulders tight. There’s blood in the leaves, a lot of it, and Cas is looking down at a Gas N Sip nametag. _Nora_. Dean lays a hand on Cas’s shoulder and Cas leans into the touch, not ready to turn around and see Dean’s face yet.

“Cas,” Dean says suddenly. “There’s—” He breaks off and the solid pressure of his hand is gone, the space extra cold in its absence. Cas turns to look at what Dean is heading toward and feels his stomach clench. It looks like a baby car seat.

He trips after Dean, his feet feeling too-large, and tries to stay calm. The car seat could be empty. Or worse, it could be—

He stops the thought.

“She’s here,” Dean breathes, his voice as apprehensive as Cas feels. But still Dean soldiers on, heads toward what could be a dead child because he knows, somehow, that Cas can’t quite shoulder that burden. Cas feels a spike of fierce love for him for the protection.

“She’s alive!” Dean’s shout makes Cas breathe, raggedly. He doesn’t _need_ to breathe, but sometimes he finds himself doing it when he’s feeling something particularly strongly, languid breaths for lying in Dean’s arms with sun slanting warm through the windows, harsh breaths for anger, shuddering breaths for fear.

“Shit, Cas, she’s barely breathing.” Dean’s pulling her tiny body from the car seat. “She’s freezing,” he reports, cradling her to his chest, and Cas has to stop the emotion welling up inside him at the sight because he needs to focus.

“Give her to me,” he says, holding out his hands, and Dean obeys instantly. Cas holds her tightly to him, giving her the heat from his body but extending his grace into the mix, as well, feeling for any other injuries and finding none. Exposure, then—whoever took Nora hadn’t harmed Tonya. It’s possible the angels had been afraid to hurt such a small child, an innocent in the truest sense of the word. Even the power-hungry would remember how close to heaven babies still are, and no one quite knows the new order of things or whether a closed-off heaven can still reign fury on angels who hurt innocent children. _Without orders_ , Castiel thinks bitterly.

Tonya starts to wail, and Castiel could cry himself from the relief of hearing that sound, the sound that had once befuddled him and even downright scared him—him, angel of the Lord, leader of heavenly troops, afraid of a tiny human baby cranky with the task of growing teeth.

“Let’s get going,” Dean says uneasily, glancing around. “I don’t think this spot will tell us anything about where Nora is.” He picks up the baby carrier but doesn’t protest when Cas keeps Tonya in his arms as they walk. There’s something wonderful about how absolutely _not_ self-conscious Cas is when soothing the baby. He croons shamelessly and she quiets against his shoulder. Dean has to tear his eyes away from the sight.

“So…what should we do?” Dean asks as they start driving, the rumble of the engine sending Tonya almost immediately to sleep. “I mean, obviously we gotta find Nora, and make sure those dickbags aren’t going to come after her and Tonya. But is there, uh, family to send Tonya to?”

Cas furrows his brow. “I don’t know,” he admits. “I don’t remember Nora ever mentioning family.”

“What about the baby’s…father?” Dean trips slightly on the word and doesn’t miss the way Cas’s lip curls.

“There is no way we’re handing her over to him.” He practically spits it and Dean looks at him. “Nora told me about him, some. He hurt her. She left before Tonya was born so he couldn’t hurt her, too.”

Dean’s hands tighten on the steering wheel. “So the father’s out,” he says, his voice tight with memories and buried emotion. Cas bites his lip before venturing to stretch a hand across the empty space between them, resting it on the back of Dean’s neck. He knows why fathers with harsh hands make Dean tense, has seen the scars and the evidence with his own eyes. He thinks maybe his hand is in a strange place, for human custom, but he doesn’t move it and Dean doesn’t protest.

“Maybe we should take her home,” Cas suggests softly, his thumb unconsciously rubbing circles up into Dean’s hairline.

“Cas…” Dean starts a warning but can’t seem to find any more words.

“I know we can’t keep her,” Cas says quickly. “We’ll—we’ll just take her home while we think about where Nora could be and find out about her family. We can’t take her to the police.”

“No,” Dean agrees. His eyes flit up to the rearview mirror to look at the tiny body sleeping in the backseat. “We can’t just leave her.”

 

It takes longer to get back to the bunker than it had to get to Idaho, because they can’t drive straight through with Tonya with them. They gather baby supplies at different stores along the way, not wanting to draw attention by buying everything at once. Dean still gets asked about his impending baby when he buys the crib and has to stutter something out about waiting on a little girl.

“Is that a baby?” Sam asks, eyebrows furrowed, when they finally trudge inside.

“No, Sammy, it’s a football,” Dean snaps. Sam glares and Dean pinches the bridge of his nose. He is so tired. Tonya hadn’t exactly been sleeping well. Dean didn’t blame her, of course—she wanted her mom, not two clumsy, awkward men who spent more time googling what to do with her than doing it. Dean drops the ten million bags he’s carrying, arms aching.

“Her name is Tonya,” Cas says quietly, Tonya looking around from her place in his arms. She turns to look at him when she hears her name and he smiles. “Yes, that’s you,” he tells her proudly, and she responds to his smile with a smile of her own. Dean thinks his heart might burst.

“So…?” Sam’s still waiting for answers and Dean glances once more at Cas before speaking up.

“She’s Nora’s daughter. Nora’s…” He trails off with another glance at Cas. Cas nods.

“Nora is missing. Probably dead,” he says calmly. He is so much better at dealing with possible death than Dean.

“So, uh, you guys just…took the baby?” Sam’s got his crazy eyes on and Dean takes a deep breath to keep from lashing out again.

“We couldn’t leave her on the side of the road. We’re just going to find out if she has family we can take her to.”

“The side of the road?” Sam echoes, now looking at Tonya with clear distress in his eyes. Bingo. He’s hooked. Dean almost sighs in relief.

“I believe Nora took her and ran and an angel caught up to them,” Cas mumbles around Tonya’s fingers. She’s sticking them in his mouth and laughing wildly as he pretends to eat them. He’s playing along with the game, but his face is only slightly less serious than normal. Dean can’t wipe the stupid smile off his face and Sam raises an eyebrow when he catches him. Dean blushes but shrugs. It’s adorable.

“I’ll make us some grub,” Dean announces. “And some for the kid.”

“I think the peas and carrots.” Cas suggests. Dean nods.

“She had the pears for lunch so vegetables are probably a good idea.”

Sam is looking back and forth between them like he doesn’t know who they are. “Should I grab some holy water?” He mutters. Dean rolls his eyes. Cas shifts Tonya to his other hip.

“Would you like to hold her?” He asks, and Sam’s eyes widen. He’s not great with kids. Though, as he reflects on it, the only baby he’s really come in contact with was that shifter.

“Um…”

“It’ll be easier for her to get to know you if you interact with her,” Cas points out. “I would just put her down, but she’s been insisting on being held.” Cas looks solemn because he knows why she’d want to be held after the ordeal she’d been through. Sam reluctantly opens his arms and Cas hands over Tonya. She stares at him with giant eyes for a long minute. Sam might be holding his breath.

“This is Sam,” Castiel tells her, voice as somber as ever. Sam can’t help but crack a smile at how earnest Cas is being in the simple matter of introducing him to a baby. Tonya grabs a lock of Sam’s hair and giggles.

“Probably thinks you’re her new mommy, with that hair,” Dean teases as he comes back into the room. He scoops Tonya away from Sam and Cas fishes a bib out of one of the bags on the floor.

“There’s some spaghetti in there.” Dean tells Sam before turning back to Tonya. “And chunky veggies for the babe. She looooves chunky veggies, doesn’t she?” He’s cooing and Tonya is bouncing excitedly in his arms. Sam can’t stop staring. He’s always known Dean is good with kids—he’s been dealing with kids since he was one, what with raising Sam—but seeing it, seeing him coddle and babble at a little baby, is something new. He hadn’t been this comfortable with Bobby John. Sam wonders if it has something to do with Cas being there.

Later that night, Dean is alone in his room and can’t stand how quiet it is. He’s spent the last three nights in a room with a fussy seven-month-old baby; the quiet seems unnatural. And, if he’s being really honest with himself, he’s finding the empty space in his bed too vast. They’d decided to put Tonya in Cas’s room because Cas doesn’t need to sleep and Tonya’s more used to Cas. But Dean keeps tossing and turning and wondering what Cas is doing. The sound of Tonya’s cries send him bolting down the hall before he can even think twice.

By the time Dean gets to Cas’s room, Tonya’s quiet, and as he gets closer to the door, he can hear Cas singing to her quietly. Dean thinks he might die if he doesn’t get in there and see it unfolding, so he ignores the voice in the back of his head that sounds suspiciously like his father and slowly eases the door open.

“I’m sorry,” Cas says when Dean pokes his head in. “I tried to get her back to sleep as quickly as possible.”

Dean suddenly feels very stupid, shuffling in wearing just sweats, bare-chested and bare-footed. Tonya isn’t asleep, but she’s looking up at Cas through heavy eyelids.

“I wasn’t sleeping,” Dean murmurs, not wanting to startle the almost-sleeping baby. “I just…” He shrugs, not sure how to go on. Cas stares at him for a minute before nodding, a tiny smile curling the side of his mouth, easy to miss if not for the fact that Dean’s already looking at his lips anyway.

“Would you mind staying in here tonight?” Cas asks. “I think she sleeps better with you near.”

Dean blows out a relieved breath. He’s not stupid—he knows Cas is humoring him. But it still gives him an excuse. “Well, I guess so.” He tries not to sound too eager as he crosses the room to climb into the bed. Cas goes back to the song he was singing and Dean pretends not to be drinking in the sight. It only takes a few more minutes before Tonya is back to dream land. Cas puts her gently into the crib they’d bought and makes sure the blankets are arranged just so before slowly walking to the bed. Dean isn’t sure if he should pretend to be asleep or not.

“Cas, buddy, you gotta sleep in something more comfortable.” During their nights on the road, he’d gotten Cas to take off his shoes and jacket to go to sleep, but he’d refused to lose the shirt and slacks. Dean hadn’t pushed too hard because he hadn’t had anything to offer Cas. Now, though, they’re back at the bunker, full of clean laundry. “Stay here,” he tells Cas, as if Cas is going to go anywhere else.

Dean comes back with a pair of sweats, trying to ignore the way he’s intentionally forgotten a shirt. He’s only a man. And he’s not even shooting for anything shady—just a little chaste, skin on skin contact. He doesn’t think it’s too much to ask after five years of build-up.

Cas eyes the sweats like they might injure him. “I don’t feel uncomfortable,” he says distrustfully.

“You feel kinda uncomfortable to me,” Dean points out, prompting a frown out of Cas. “I don’t mean—I just mean your suit’s a little stiff. I mean…” Dean’s blushing wildly, though Cas isn’t entirely sure why. He tilts his head in the way that makes Dean swallow hard and considers for a long minute before shrugging and taking the sweats from Dean. He starts unbuttoning his shirt and Dean’s eyes go huge.

“You—you’re not going to change in the bathroom?” Dean asks stupidly. _Smooth_ , he curses himself. Cas squints at him.

“Dean.” He huffs a frustrated breath. “The bathroom is down the hall.” He sounds so crabby Dean wants to laugh. “Besides, I don’t think you really mind watching me undress.” He even has the gall to quirk an eyebrow at Dean and Dean’s suddenly gaping like a fish, all laughter eradicated.

“Cas!” Dean hisses. Cas just gives him annoyed look and pulls his belt from the loops.

“Are you going to try to deny it?” Cas asks. Dean runs a hand through his hair. So much for Cas not pushing the pace.

“Do you realize…I’m just saying—argh, Cas!” Dean turns away as Cas starts to shimmy out of his—Jimmy’s?—slacks because if they’re going to share a bed in the same room as an innocent baby, he needs to get his mind elsewhere.

Dean climbs back into the bed, resolutely _not_ watching Cas slide _Dean’s_ sweats up to his hips and damn it all, Dean can’t stop hearing the slide of Cas’s belt. He only barely holds back a startled yelp when Cas flings an arm around his waist, wondering how he didn’t notice Cas get on the bed and thinking suspiciously that Cas might’ve used angel mojo.

“I’m not trying to antagonize you,” Cas murmurs apologetically into Dean’s ear. Dean has to focus very hard on Cas’s words and not the hot, bare skin of his chest against Dean’s back. “I don’t understand the human impulse to obfuscate the truth about feelings. But I know you don’t like talking about these things, so I’ll try not to make you uncomfortable.”

Dean has to clear his throat before he can talk. “I’m just sorta…” He doesn’t know where he meant to go with the sentence and makes a vague gesture with his hand. Cas tightens the arm around Dean’s waist and nuzzles his nose against the back of Dean’s ear in a way that makes something tight in Dean’s chest uncoil.

“It’s alright,” Cas whispers gently, his lips moving against Dean’s jaw. “Just go to sleep.”

When they get up the next morning, Sam’s already typing furiously away at his laptop. He doesn’t mention that they came out to the kitchen at the same time or that Dean’s open door revealed that he didn’t sleep in his own room last night. Dean thinks, not for the first time, that his brother is nicer than he is. Sometimes.

“So get this,” Sam says as Dean rifles around in the bags for some baby food. “There’s a reward out for information on Nora and Tonya.” Cas’s head snaps up from making faces at the baby to glare at Sam.

“Who is offering this reward?” He asks, and if Dean and Sam weren’t used to Cas’s intensity they might actually be afraid of him. Dean hands Cas the jar of baby food and a little spoon. Tonya’s already reaching out for the food.

“Um, it says it’s an anonymous donor…” Sam’s a little more cautious in his news-bearing now because this is obviously not just some case.

“We’re not taking a reward for the kid!” Dean breaks in angrily.

“Of course we’re not!” Sam fires back just as Dean was loading his tongue with a soul-less Sam barb. He swallows the insult.

“If we find out who’s offering the reward, we’ll probably find whoever took them in the first place,” Cas says, a little more calmly than before. He’s trying to appease the brothers’ anger at one another. “Yes, I’m sorry.” He returns his attention to Tonya, who’s jabbering and grabbing at the spoon he’s not loading with food fast enough. “But eating too quickly can cause indigestion. There are real ramifications to your human body, you know.”

“C’mon, Cas, don’t teach her to talk like a nerd,” Dean grouses good-naturedly. “She’s just a baby.” He makes a face at Tonya. “Aren’t ya? Just a little baby-babe.” She squeals and giggles at his baby-voice and he grins proudly.

“The baby book said you’re not enhancing her language skills by speaking to her like she is an idiot,” Cas points out.

“Baby book?” Sam asks incredulously. His question is ignored.

“Guess I have to be the fun daddy, huh, baby?” Dean keeps babbling. His eyes go wide when he realizes what he said. Cas’s shoulders tighten.

“Cas, I just meant…” Dean bites his lip.

“What?” Cas says softly, and Sam suddenly wonders if he’s gone invisible and that’s why they’re acting like he’s not there. “What did you mean?”

“I—” Dean stops because he doesn’t know what to say. Cas’s lips purse but he just nods once and continues feeding Tonya.

“You should eat some breakfast,” Cas tells Dean. Dean’s looking at Cas with a pinched expression on his face, almost like he’s in physical pain.

“Cas…”

“Dean. Eat something.” Cas’s voice says the discussion is closed and Sam takes the opening to clear his throat. Both Cas and Dean jump a little at the sound, and Tonya laughs wildly. Dean actually looks guilty.

“Uh, so, can you find anything on the anonymous donor?” He asks and he pours himself a cup of coffee.

“I’m tracking the IP address, but that might not be good enough. I wish Charlie was here. She could do this in like a second.”

Tonya is not interested in the topic of conversation and decides to talk over Sam. She’s giggling to herself while she babbles and Sam cuts off his explanation of IP addresses and hidden data when he realizes no one is listening to him. Dean and Cas are making the stupidest faces he’s ever seen, acting like they can understand Tonya, and all three of them are cracking up. Sam wants to grumble, but he can’t. It’s a little bit adorable.

But he has to end the cute-fest, because he’s found something else. “Guys,” he says, and Dean looks a little embarrassed while Cas doesn’t seem bothered in the least that he’s been caught sticking his tongue out at a seven-month-old. “You should probably check this out.”

He starts the video when they come around to look at the screen. It’s a woman with long brown hair and sad eyes. “Please,” she’s begging. “If you know what happened to my sister and her daughter, please let us know.” Tears are sliding down her cheeks and Cas hangs his head.

“We should take Tonya to her,” he says quietly. Dean’s chest hurts at the sound of his voice and before he can stop himself he puts his hand on Cas’s shoulder.

“We don’t have to do it right away,” Dean suggests weakly. They’ll take her to her family and they all know it. Cas turns his head and Dean can’t figure out the look on his face but he thinks he sees some gratitude in there somewhere.

“We should,” Cas says. “She should be with family.” He smiles sadly at the baby in front of him and rubs a finger against her cheek. She laughs and tries to chew on his finger.

“Well, we at least have to make sure it’s safe first,” Sam pipes up. It’s true; they would never send anyone into an unsafe situation. (Except themselves.) It’s just an added bonus that it gives Dean and Cas more time with Tonya. Sam thinks she’s cute, sure, and maybe if she was going to stay longer he’d get attached, but he hasn’t spent four nights taking care of her.

They decide to take the day for Sam to poke around into the background of this possible sister to see if she’s real.

“Should we go play outside?” Dean suggests after he’s changed Tonya into a little pair of pink overalls he’d bought. There’s something about babies in overalls that Dean likes a whole lot. He puts tiny shoes on Tonya’s feet and the three of them step out of the bunker into bright sunlight. Tonya points at a leaf and Dean laughs.

“Let’s try standing,” Dean says, but as soon as Tonya feels his hands pulling her away from his body she clings to his neck and starts to cry.

“She’s very scared,” Cas observes softly. Dean rubs circles on Tonya’s back and looks at Cas’s downturned eyes and wants to rub circles on his back, too.

“I know the feeling,” Dean says it to the top of Tonya’s head, not looking at Cas, praying silently that Cas will know what he means. Cas doesn’t say anything, but he rests a hand on Dean’s shoulder-blade and it seems like it means something, like they’re building a little bridge between them of stolen glances and gentle touches, a bridge that will gap the space between what they can’t say.

 

As far as Sam can tell, the sister checks out. He sees the way both Dean and Cas try to keep disappointment from flooding their faces and then watches them both feeling annoyed at themselves for the sentiment.

“I mean, we could drive out there and then just observe for a day or so,” Sam points out. “Make sure the sister is real and harmless.”

“That’s a good idea, Sam,” Dean’s trying not to sound relieved, but he’s not doing a very good job of it. He’s sprawled on the couch with Tonya, his hand taking up her whole back.

“Poor Tonya,” Cas murmurs. “She’s had to spend so much time stuck in the car lately.”

“We could wait another day.” Sam suggests. He doesn’t think they _should_ , really, not if this woman could potentially be Tonya’s real family, but he can see the ache in Cas’s eyes.

Cas looks down at the baby in question, sleeping against Dean’s chest because she can’t even bear to be put down for a nap. He thinks about if Dean went missing and had a child, what he’d want for that baby, and he sighs a little.

“No,” he says, resigned. “We should leave first thing tomorrow.” Dean looks down at Tonya and sighs, too. And then, biting his lip and casting one quick look at Sam, he reaches out a hand to catch Cas’s wrist.

“Hey,” he says softly. “We’ll make sure she’s okay first. We won’t let anything bad happen to Tonya.”

“Besides what I already let happen to her.” Cas’s voice is barely above a whisper. He lets his fingers curl around Dean’s for a ghost of a second and squeezes before moving away. “I’ll start packing things away.”

“Is he okay?” Sam asks tentatively after a moment of no sound but Tonya’s snuffling breaths. Dean purses his lips.

“Not really,” he admits. “But I don’t think there’s anything we can do about it.”

Sam nods. “And what about you?”

Dean snorts. “When am I ever okay?” He says bitterly. Tonya stirs and he rubs her back until she quiets. “They killed her mom and just _left_ her there, Sammy. She’s a baby and they just left her on the side of the road.”

There has always been something about kids, for Dean. Sam wonders if it’s him Dean thinks of when he sees scared children or if Dean mourns his own lost childhood, but whatever it is, kids have always hit hard for Dean. And this—a baby, just around the age Sam was when everything went to hell, a child with a connection to Cas—is hitting him even harder.

“We’ll find them, Dean,” Sam promises, staring at the Dean’s protective hand on Tonya’s back and thinking about Cas’s haunted eyes. “We’ll make them pay.”

It’s a four-hundred mile drive to Cheyenne, where Nora’s sister—Natalie, according to her plea—lives. Without a baby it would take them just under seven hours, but they stop at rest areas to let her play in the grass for a few minutes every chance they can. She refuses to eat in the car seat and changing her diaper on the hood of the Impala on the side of the road doesn’t really seem okay.

“Oh, how old is she?” A little old lady asks outside of North Platte. Cas has Tonya on his lap and Dean is spooning rice cereal into her mouth while she gurgles and babbles and spills most of it on the bib. Sam dropped them off at a small park and went to get gas and food.

“Seven months,” Cas says, eyeing her warily, like an angel or demon might have taken her as a vessel to throw them off the scent.

“She’s beautiful,” the woman says, and Cas relaxes a little.

“She sure is.” Dean grins broadly, making airplane noises. Tonya squeals and claps her hands while Dean “lands” the rice cereal into her mouth.

“You’re very good fathers," the woman says solemnly. “I know some people don’t think you should be allowed children, but you’re doing a fine job.”

“Um…” Cas glances at Dean, gauging his reaction.

“Thank you,” Dean says firmly. “We’re doing our best.”

“It’s all any of us can do with kids.” She laughs and shakes her head a little. “Little monsters sometimes, aren’t they?” She chucks Tonya under the chin and Tonya grins her one-toothed smile and Dean feels himself fall a little more under the baby’s spell.

Cas doesn’t mention the woman’s words later, and Dean feels at once grateful and uncomfortable, like it’s sitting between them, the elephant in the Impala. They check in to the closest motel to where Natalie lives, and Dean ends up getting two single rooms and Sam slides a wide-eyed look his way as Dean tosses him a room key without making eye contact after opening one door for Cas to carry a squabbling Tonya inside.

“I don’t want her crying to keep you up.” Dean says by way of explanation, and it’s weak at best because a lifetime of motel life has taught them if there’s a baby anywhere on your floor _no one_ will sleep, and it certainly doesn't explain the one bed in Dean and Cas's room. But Sam takes the key without protest, biting his lip.

“Alright, so,” he starts. Dean tenses slightly. “Should we set up shifts for surveillance?”

“Good idea,” Dean says, visibly relaxing. “Can you take the first one? It’s bath time.”

“It’s…” Sam snaps his mouth shut but his eyes are still bugging slightly. “Um. Yeah. I’ll head over there now.”

“Is your phone charged?” Dean slips back into annoying big brother mode so easily. “Don’t forget to take an angel blade _and_ Ruby’s knife. We don’t know what we could be dealing with here.”

“Yes, Dean, I know,” Sam says testily, adopting the little brother irritation just as easily. “I’m not an idiot.”

“I know that,” Dean snaps. He takes a deep breath. “Just be careful, okay? If it’s the angels…well, they’re obviously not too worried about hurting people.”

“I’ll be fine, Dean. Four-hour shifts sound good?”

“Yeah, just text when you’re on your way back. I’ll take second shift.” He hands over the keys to the Impala only slightly warily, and Sam can’t tell if it’s out of concern for him or the car, so he bites back an annoyed huff about overprotective brothers. Dean watches Sam drive off and looks at the sky for a minute before going in to help Cas put Tonya to bed.

The night of surveillance brought up nothing, and Dean grumbles internally about only getting an hour wrapped up in Cas once Tonya fell asleep before it was his turn and then Cas’s to watch a dark house full of sleeping people.

“So,” Dean says as they’re eating breakfast, Tonya obediently opening her mouth for bites of Cas’s milkshake and making a shocked face at how cold it is every time. “We’re taking her there.”

“I don’t see what else we can do, Dean,” Sam says gently. “That’s her family.”

“Sam’s right,” Cas adds quietly. He and Dean share a long look before Cas drops his eyes to the table. Dean reaches across the table and wipes drooly milkshake off Tonya’s chin.

“Yeah.” Dean’s voice is gruff and he won’t make eye contact with anyone, but he forces a smile when Tonya wraps his chubby fist around his finger and sticks it in her mouth. They don’t waste much more time after that, loading into the Impala and driving silently to Natalie’s house. Dean pulls Tonya out of the car seat, thinking they can come back for it later if Natalie needs it. _Or we could keep it, for…_ he shakes the thought away. Cas is looking around, eyes narrowed, as they approach the front door.

“Dean…” He holds out both arms to stop Sam and Dean from approaching the door. His face drains of color. “No,” he whispers as the door opens.

“Hello, Castiel.” The man in front of them—presumably an angel—is sneering. Dean sees a flash of silver and claps a hand over Tonya’s eyes and closes his own, shouting at Sam to do the same. When the lightshow ends, Cas is breathing hard, leaning against the door.

“There will be more,” he murmurs. Dean shuffles Tonya to the other hip, grabbing at Cas with one arm.

“I’ve got her, I’ve got her,” Sam says, tugging Tonya from his arm. Dean focuses on Cas.

“Cas, what is it?” Dean’s checking him over, hands flying from his face to his ribs to his arms and back up again. Cas shakes his head and stands up straight.

“I should have known it wouldn’t be this easy,” he berates himself. A woman comes up behind them, holding a blade.

“Won’t you come in?” She jeers. Dean clenches his jaw so tightly he thinks it might break. Cas gives him a warning look. When they get inside, they find three more angels forming a lazy guard around a sobbing Natalie and her husband and… _Nora._ She’s on the ground, not moving, and Cas’s eyes go round when he sees her.

“We thought you might come running when one of your human pets went missing.” The woman smirks at Castiel. “And look, you’ve found the baby.”

At the word, Nora stirs. Her face is swollen and bruised and her hands are bound behind her, but she looks around wildly. “Tonya?” She rasps. Tonya starts crying, reaching for Nora.

“We have her,” Cas assures her. “Andriel, untie her.” Nora’s brow wrinkles.

“Steve?” She asks.

Andriel laughs, high and cold. “Steve? Was that the name you adopted when you were human?”

“Did Malachi send you?” Cas asks, ignoring the question.

“He seemed to think you needed some persuading. Now that you’re back in the game.”

“Let them go,” Cas orders. “I presume this was a trap. You want me.”

“Cas,” Dean growls. “They ain’t getting you.”

Cas shoots Dean a quelling look as Andriel laughs again. “Oh, Castiel’s favorite toy. Dean Winchester. How nice that you’re here as well. We can kill all the birds with few stones.”

“That’s not even how the expression goes.” Dean rolls his eyes. His body’s thrumming with tension, turned to block Sam and Tonya as much as he can while not letting Cas out of his sight. Sam, for his part, has his Sasquatch body curled around Tonya to shield her as she wails into his shoulder.

“Please,” Nora speaks up. “I don’t know what you want, please, don’t hurt her. You can kill me if you want, just don’t hurt her.”

“We don’t care about your little ape,” Andriel spits. She gives a nod and one of the other angels sends Nora sprawling with a kick.

“Hey!” Dean yells. “You want to fight someone? I’m right here. I know how much you all hate me.”

“Castiel, you know how to get out of this.” Andriel makes her voice silky. “Join us. You’re very good at killing angels, aren’t you?”

“Listen to me, you bird-brained bitch, you come near Cas—” One of Andriel’s lackeys snarls and moves toward Dean, and Cas’s vision tunnels. He slaps a palm to the angel’s head, burning him out of his vessel before he can fight back, then whirls on Andriel with his angel blade. He can hear Dean at his back fighting the other two angels, and they press back-to-back to cover one another’s blind spots.

“Don’t even think about it, Sammy,” Dean grits out when he notices Sam bobbing uncertainly behind them. “Keep her safe.”

Andriel had been an archer, and her hand-to-hand combat is sloppy. Cas makes short work of her. Dean’s managed to kill one of the others, so just one angel remains.

“Eremiel,” Cas pants. “Please. You don’t have to fight us.”

“And then what?” Eremiel paces, caged, eyes wild. “I will be hunted as you are.”

“I will protect you,” Cas offers.

“Like you’ve protected yourself?” Eremiel shoots back.

“Then go,” Cas says, stepping aside to make a clear path to the door. “Go back to Malachi and say you were keeping watch and we killed everyone else. Let them go.” His voice is soft and sad. “You once protected humans, Eremiel. Over the abyss.”

“Things are different now,” Eremiel chokes out.

“Not so different, brother. There have always been forces against us.”

Eremiel is wavering. He moves toward the door and Dean immediately shifts his position, putting himself between the angel and Sam again. Eremiel pauses at the door.

“Forgive me,” he murmurs softly. There is a flash of a blade.

“No!” Cas shouts as he rushes forward. The blinding light is back and Dean closes his eyes. Eremiel is dead, his own blade sticking in his chest, and Cas is trembling beside his body. Dean goes to his side and puts an arm around Cas’s shoulders.

“Come on, Cas,” Dean murmurs. “We’ve got people to take care of.”

Natalie’s already untied Nora, stroking her hair worriedly. Sam moves around Dean and Cas and drops to his knees beside Nora. Tonya is all but screaming at this point.

“Oh, baby,” Nora sobs. “I thought they…oh, you’re okay, oh, Tonya.” She takes the baby in shaking hands and presses her against her chest.

“Who are you?” Natalie asks, eyes a bit flinty. Sam doesn’t blame her.

“We hunt monsters,” Sam says.

“They said they were angels.” Natalie accuses. “They said they were going to help find Nora and Tonya.”

“That’s my fault,” Cas steps forward, head bowed. “They wanted me. I’m truly sorry you were used to get to me.”

“But…Steve?” Nora looks up at him.

“My name isn’t really Steve,” Cas admits. Nora snorts.

“I figured that out.”

Cas manages a small smile. “My name is Castiel. I’m an angel of the Lord.” It’s a much softer introduction than Dean had gotten. To be fair, Dean thinks, he _did_ shoot and stab Cas.

“Why were you working at a gas station?”

“I was temporarily human,” Cas explains. “I needed to lay low. For…” He gestures around the room. “This reason. Nora.” Cas kneels beside her. “I’m sorry I didn’t protect you better.”

“Was there anything you could have done?” Nora asks. Cas hesitates.

“Yes,” he confesses softly.

“Not really,” Dean argues. “You could have warded the house, sure, but they could’ve grabbed her from work, Cas, they still could’ve come after her family.”

Nora examines Dean’s face for a long moment, then looks at Cas. “You kept Tonya safe.” It sounds like forgiveness and Cas’s face twists guiltily. He doesn’t deserve forgiveness.

“Can I heal your wounds?” He holds out a hand and Nora looks at apprehensively. Cas touches her forehead and the bruises disappear, the swelling drops, the cuts knit back together. Nora gasps.

“It’s like magic,” she murmurs.

“It’s grace,” Cas corrects solemnly. He turns to Natalie and her husband. “Are either of you injured?”

“No,” Natalie says. “Are we in danger?”

Cas looks at Dean and Sam. “Is there anywhere else you can go?” Sam asks gently.

“Our parents had a cabin.” Natalie sounds a little faint. Cas presses two fingers to her forehead and gives her strength. She gulps, eyes round as she stares at him.

“Go there,” Dean instructs. “For a week or two. We’ll protect this house. Cas can teach you what to do to protect the cabin.”

They leave as quickly as possible, taking all the baby supplies packed into the Impala, and Dean can’t help but feel a little wistful as he hands over the crib and the car seat and bags of baby food jars. Cas draws the sigils carefully on a piece of paper he sends with them, giving clear instructions that it has to be in blood.

“Goodbye, Tonya,” Cas says solemnly, cradling her to his chest and breathing in the scent of the baby shampoo they’d washed her hair with last night. “You are a very special child.” She sucks on his finger absently, apparently not feeling as emotional as he is. Sam pretends to shake her hand and she giggles.

“Bye, bye.” Sam flaps a hand and she laughs at him. Cas holds her against him another moment before passing her to Dean. Hard as he’s trying to hide it, emotion is all over Dean’s face.

“Hey, baby girl,” he murmurs, voice tight. “We’re sure gonna miss you.” She lets out a stream of gibberish in response and Dean cracks a smile. “You’re going to be a knockout when you’re a grownup. And you’ll be so smart and so brave.” He whispers the next part: “And happy.”

She snuggles against Nora once Dean hands her back, and Nora looks back and forth between Dean and Cas, opens her mouth like she wants to say something, then snaps it closed and pulls Cas in for a one-armed hug.

“Thank you,” she whispers in his ear. “For caring so much. Again.”

Once the family is gone, Dean, Cas, and Sam stare at the bodies in the living room.

“I don’t know if all three will fit in Baby,” Dean says.

“I can…” Cas rubs his forehead and stoops beside the bodies, obliterating each with a touch of his hand. He’s breathing heavily after he’s done, forehead shining with sweat.

“Cas?”

“I’m fine,” Cas insists, swiping at the sweat on his brow. They ward the house and pile into the Impala. The car seems too quiet without Tonya’s babbling in the backseat, Cas all alone back there and suddenly a little lonely in the way the backseat never seemed to be before. The drive all the way back to the bunker, and it seems so strange that with everything that happened that day, they get home by nine.

Sam starts pulling leftovers out of the fridge, some potatoes and meatloaf, some chicken alfredo, a burrito. Cas doesn’t need to eat, but Dean hands him the burrito anyway and Cas is too worn out to protest. They eat silently and then Sam slips away, letting his hand drop to Dean’s shoulder for a brief second before he disappears to his room. Dean sighs and rests his forehead on the table.

“I’m going to bed,” he finally says, voice muffled because his face is pressed against the table. Cas sits for a while after he’s gone, cleaning up a little. Then he goes down the hallway, knocks quietly, and slips into Dean’s room. Dean doesn’t say anything but passes him a pair of sweatpants, and they change tiredly and crawl into bed.

Tomorrow they’ll have to come up with a strategy, plan how to stay away from the angels, figure out what to do with the remaining baby clothes and jars of pureed sweet potatoes in the fridge. But tonight, Cas will twine his legs with Dean’s and hook his arm over Dean’s waist and nose at the skin on the back of Dean’s neck. Tonight, they will draw comfort from one another, and they’ll face the world again tomorrow.


End file.
